大象传媒

Chapter 26 The Move

After leaving the affluent Morells we were placed with the 鈥楤arringtons鈥� who appeared quite ancient to us. Imagine what it must have been like for them, not used to having children about, especially two urchins. Mr Barrington was a solicitor, a quiet, kindly sort of chap but didn鈥檛 really get involved with us, we were just there and he had to put up with us.

Mrs Barrington was a different kettle of fish, she ruled the roost and insisted that Ken and myself attended the open air swimming pool every day come rain or shine and enter the water during the long season.

The pool was located at the recreation ground and looked after by Mr Barrington鈥檚 brother, a one legged man. There were many limbless men to be seen at this time. Casualties from the First World War. Mr Barrington was an easy going man like his brother, never-the less, his fear of his sister-in law ensured that we would take the plunge each day. It was her way of washing us to avoid soiling her sheets. I can鈥檛 remember ever washing at their home. Perhaps I did.

Ken was a good swimmer and when the weather was warm we spent many happy hours in the swimming pool. This helped to make up for the freezing cold days.

I was a non-swimmer at that time but still enjoyed myself particularly playing with a large black blown- up tractor innertube in the water.

Opposite the 鈥楤arringtons were fields where the circus would over- winter. Great days spent there going around looking at the animals, patting the tethered horses. I did learn the hard way as I was kicked by a stallion , knocking me to the ground and injuring my arm, nothing too serious but from there on I approached horses from the front.

Chapter 27 The Fairground

When the summer arrived the fairground folk would start their generators and build the rides ready for the season ahead. Refreshing the bright paintwork, polishing brasses etc.
I think my favorite ride was the motorbike one. This went round and round very fast and the floor moved up and down in segments like moving orange slices. All the men and boys used to ride standing up on the moving floor, showing off to the screaming girls who hung on so tight.

First attempts to stand up always ended up in a heap on the moving floor which was quite dangerous. There were none of the restrictions in place those days. We eventually became quite expert at standing on the moving platforms and were allowed to move around the ride collecting money from the passengers. I suppose it would be called 鈥榗ool鈥� these days.

We loved the Carousel with it鈥檚 beautiful painted horses. These moved up and down as the ride went around. The horses seemed to throw you high in the air then judder down to the base then up again. Music playing and the models banging drums, the wonderful smell of the traction steam engines which powered the rides and provided the fairyland lights. The combination of all this gave us a feeling of complete happiness.

During the summer months we visited the 鈥楻ec鈥� to watch the cricket, sometimes in the pavilion where the score board was positioned. We were even allowed to change the scores with the number plates. As usual before returning to home we took the prescribed bathe in the open air swimming pool.

Despite all this we were unhappy at the 鈥楤arringtons鈥� and asked to be moved. I鈥檓 not sure how we approached this but do remember having a visit from the Billeting Officer, a Mr Johnstone, a stern man with a grey moustache from Bristol.

Chapter 28 The Final Move and Gandy

We were placed with the 鈥楾hompsons鈥� a London Eastend family who had been 鈥榖ombed out鈥� themselves and moved to 鈥榃ivey鈥�.

They were a very kind family and immediately made us welcome and shared everything with us as part of the family. They had a son, John, he was in the in the RAF. A second son named
Ronnie was near enough the same age as me, and a baby boy named Norman. The small terraced cottage was set in a 鈥榙ead-end鈥� lane. It was called Newgate Lane off Golden Hill.

At the bottom of the lane was the 鈥楽tevens鈥� cottage. They had a son called Dennis but always addressed as Gandy. He was to became our friend and mentor in all things country, helped by an incident on the day we met which gave me much street cred.

A commotion was being made by the women gathered. A rat鈥檚 tail was protruding from a stone wall in the lane. Why I don鈥檛 know, probably showing off, my forte. I grabbed the tail, pulled the rat out and killed it to the astonishment of Gandy and all assembled. This foolish act became my passport to acceptance. From then on we were pals and inseparable.

Gandy reminded me of this incident fifty years later when we met again on a surprise visit. His first words to me were, 鈥� Course I remember thee, you be Don who pulled thik rat out of thik wall鈥� Time had mellowed Gandy by this time. He was, like me, a grey- haired, spectacled old man. He did comment that those days were perhaps his most memorable.

Gandy continued to surprise us with his knowledge of the countryside. Castle, a place of interest just outside the village of Wiveliscombe, was very special to us.
We collected wood, searched for slow worms and climbed what to us seemed a sheer cliff face. Rode the 鈥楤ucking Bronco鈥� a long, springy fallen tree. Sitting astride this whilst the others bounced the branch violently up and down attempting to dislodge it鈥檚 rider, then take the place of the fallen one. Repeating this until we all had a go.

Castle was also the habitat of vipers, Britains only poisonous snake. Moving as close as we dared to watch them wriggle away, they are dangerous but will avoid humans, unless you stand or sit on one then you may be bitten. Fair do鈥檚 wouldn鈥檛 you!!

Gandy showed us which plants to pick from the hedgerows which were edible. Salt and pepper, wild strawberries and cob nuts and many others. Also when in season, mushrooms. A special find were horse- mushrooms. We would cover them with grass and return the following day to pick as they would grow to the size of a dinner plate in no time at all.

From the fields, turnips, swedes and carrots. Pulling these up eating them like large apples. Spitting on them to remove the soil and wiping it on our trousers. Lovely.

During the war years many things were in short supply or not available at all. Fruits from foreign lands were in this category. Some of the younger children had never seen a banana yet alone tasted one! Due to oranges and lemons being unavailable children would collect rose hips from the hedges. These would be made into marmalade and very nice too.

Mrs Thompson would make a batter in a shallow tray and sprinkle with currants, these would sink to the base .The mixture was placed in the oven to bake. Waiting for Mrs Thompson to remove the tray in anticipation of a treat. I think she was pleased we loved it so much.
Mr Thompson worked at Hancocks Brewery at the top of Golden Hill. A brewery stands there to this day and jolly good beer it is too. Gandy, The wise one of all things country had more surprises for us.

The brewery yard was a place to obtain 鈥榯reats鈥�. Waiting for the cider apple horse and cart to arrive loaded with a wide variety of apples. When the driver went to the office Gandy would check the bags of apples to see which were ok to eat. Generally cider apples are very bitter so Gandy looked for the 鈥楽weet Morgans鈥� and declared, 鈥� Theez be they鈥� making the rips in the bags bigger to get at them. Other rich pickings were handfuls of malt. So sweet.

Behind the brewery were the pig sties. Huge pink pigs fattened up here, enjoying what was to
be a short but happy life.

Chapter 29 Wiveliscombe Market

Market day was an exciting time too. Many hours were spent at the market. Watching the pigs having their ears pierced squealing in protest.
Sheep tumbled out of cattle trucks bleating in protest, some breaking legs on the steep descent from the truck. These were put down by the local butcher always at hand. Not a very pleasant introduction to countryside ways.

Chapter 30 Childhood Nerves

During this period I started wetting the bed and a rubber sheet was placed on top of my mattress. Poor Mrs Thompson, she would change the sheets on a daily basis but never chastised me, bless her.

This bed wetting was a powerful tool for my brother as during our many fights he would threaten to tell my friends of my bed wetting which made me very angry. I don鈥檛 know the reason why I wet the bed, all I can recall is that I had the same dream every night.

I dreamt I was sleeping in a gypsy living van. During the night I would wake up wanting a pee, climb out of bed, down the steps of the van and pee in the hedge, only it wasn鈥檛 the hedge it was the bed. I never told anyone of this dream and don鈥檛 know if it would have helped. Can鈥檛 remember when the bed wetting stopped but it did.

Chapter 31 A School Trip and more Countryways

A year had passed. Ma wrote to us every few weeks and we wrote back. We had settled in and although we thought of Ma and Freda, we didn鈥檛 mope over this. I did think of them every night though as we were brought up to say our prayers at bedtime and I would pray for God to keep them safe.

John Thompson, the eldest son who was in the RAF, would come home on leave occasionally. He would spend hours sketching. He was a good artist. Some of his drawings were of classic nude women. Getting a glimpse of these excited us as we had no idea what an unclothed woman looked like!

I was taken on just one school trip to Taunton to see a film. It was the 鈥淲izard of Oz鈥� I remember being so afraid when the Wicked Witch appeared on her broomstick with her evil green face. I hid under the seat calling to Ken to tell me when she had gone. Of course he told me she was but she was still there. Funny how he was so frightened of the dark but not of the Wicked Witch. I guess it was his way of getting his own back on me for frightening him.
I have watched that film many times since and I still think it is wonderful and the Wicked Witch still frightening. No, I don鈥檛 hide under the seat now!

Gandy was always with us and again showed us more country ways, haymaking and corn cutting. Riding astride the Shire horses, sharing cider with the farmhands. The men swinging the casks high over their arms and drinking with loud glugging noises then passing the cask to us. We tried to imitate them but the cider would pour out over our faces making us wet. This seemed to amused them.

Rabbit catching meant meat on the table and during corn- cutting and hay- making the rabbits were driven by the noise of the horse drawn cutting machine to the middle of the field which grew smaller as the cutter moved around it. Some rabbits made a run for it but the lurcher dogs were waiting for them.
When a rabbit made a run for it the dog would give chase going so fast that when catching the rabbit it would tumble over and over but never letting go of it鈥檚 prize. The remainder of rabbits were teeming in the small square of grass remaining. Men, boys and dogs all eager to catch a rabbit dived into the midst grabbing at the flurry of fur.

Chapter 32 Exams

My school progress was slow and I sank to the level of the remainder of the London evacuees. At the Wiveliscombe school Ken was faring much better and took his exams passing with distinction. He was the one with brains.

He was offered a place at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital College at Bristol. Uniforms there were traditional consisting of a long black vicar- type frock, belt, yellow stockings and buckle shoes. A very high college indeed. I wonder if the uniform is still worn?

Ma could not afford to send Ken there despite him winning a scholarship. Books, uniform, how would he get there as it was the far side of the city It was decided that St Georges Grammar School would be the best option Freda also passed her exams and attended St Georges ..
This meant leaving Wiveliscombe and returning to Bristol.

I can鈥檛 remember saying goodbye to the 鈥楾hompsons鈥� who had looked after us so well. Nor can I remember how we travelled back to Bristol. Was it by rail or coach? Why is this part of my life so vague?

Chapter 33 Returning Home

Coming home to Bristol seemed strange at first. Air raids were few and far between and had been during our period of evacuation which on hindsight was a waste of time. We soon slipped back into family life with Ken once again taking over the roll of 鈥淢an of the House鈥�
I do remember the garden with an abundance of fruit on the bushes and the vegetable patch fully planted.

In the corner at the bottom of the garden lived the hens and a rooster.

A walk-in compound of wire netting contained the brood of mixed breeds, mainly Rhode Island Reds and White Leg Horns. Master of the Pack was a splendid,. feisty Buff Orpington cock bird. When entering the pen a broom was carried to fend off his attacks .

Pullets were purchased to be fattened for the table at Christmas. The birds were fed on kitchen scraps and whatever the poor things could scratch out of the ground. Occasionally the eggs were laid with soft shells. Grit was added to their feed along with a mixture named 鈥楰arsons Poultry Spice鈥�. This would improve the shells.

Freda was a lovely sister and had grown up whilst we were away. She was developing into a young woman. She smoothed over the many fights my brother and I seem to revel in. Never running to tell tales to Ma although she had good cause to. She was good fun to be with.

A new member to the household had been added in our absence, Fluff the cat. It had this annoying habit of jumping up on our laps, making itself comfortable,digging it鈥檚 claws in then commence to suck our clothing making it wet as if suckling it鈥檚 mother. We loved Fluff just the same.

When walking home from school Fluff would sit and wait for us on the high wall surrounding the Morley Chapel at the top of the road. As we passed by Fluff would jump down surprising us although we expected it, landing across our shoulders laying there sucking away!! Strange. When she died we cried.

Chapter 34 Senior School and Friends

Ken started at St Georges Grammar School and I at Alexandra Park Secondary Modern School at Fishponds Bristol. Jonny Smart, the boy next door attended as did Mervyn Groves, Still up to his usual mischief.

What a character he was. Always in trouble, very bright and one of a twin. His sister was named Joyce, a really nice girl, in fact a very nice family. They were members of the Salvation Army. Mervyn, his Mum and Dad, played brass instruments in the 鈥楽ally Ann鈥� Band. We joined the 鈥楽ally Ann鈥� Torchbearers Club. A place to meet and play games ,table tennis and the like.
Most youth clubs were attached to a church and to be a member one also had to attend the church.

Mervyn鈥檚 mother worked at the fresh fish shop at Fishponds road near the park. The house reaked of fish, a smell I can鈥檛 stand to this day. His mother asked us to call her Flo. She was so cheerful and forward looking, kind and humorous. I loved being there and for me it was open house.

The smell of fish was unpleasant but the joy of being in that household couldn鈥檛 keep me away. I could walk in anytime without knocking. So different to Ma鈥檚 outlook.

Friends who called at my home were made to wait on the step and rarely invited in.

Flo not only welcomed me but fed me too. There were always lots of kids and laughter in that household. Later in life when I was in the army hospital Flo wrote to me regularly and sent food parcels. What a lady! A breath of fresh air. I loved her like a mother.

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